


Ladies At Play

by Nope



Category: Stormwatch (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-03
Updated: 2003-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope
Summary: Wish likes Rose. Rose kills like breathing.





	Ladies At Play

It's hot. Dark out. Sirens. Splattering of light. Rose is sprawled out on the bed. Glorious in candlelight. Wearing nothing but her red tattooed skin. Roses and dragons. Doing something exquisitely obscene with a rather lethal looking handgun. Wish smiles at her reflection in the window. Wish likes Rose. Rose kills like breathing. Breaks people on her kisses. Burns them just by talking. You have to love that in a woman.

That and the occasional red leather corset. Thigh high boots. Oh my.

They're in -- well, she forgets. Some city. Town really. Small place. Quaint. Iron street lamps and cloth awnings and cobbled roads. Thousand like it. Who cares what it's called? They'll be gone tomorrow. Even if they're not-- Well, it's not like there'll be anyone left to stop them. Which is kinda sad, actually, now she comes to think about it. Maybe she should turn some more people on. She remembers that delightfully pale girl in -- Boston? Somewhere. Had tall buildings and an egregiously complicated one-way system. And the motel had crappy showers. It had taken hours to get the blood out of her hair.

The pale girl. Activation is so much fun. Finding those latent post-human seeds and making them pop. Sprout. Watching the seizures. Riding the convulsions sometimes, when she's feeling real kinky. And then afterwards -- just afterwards, while they're still wet and new. While their nerves are burning in their bodies. That's when she most likes to have them. So wonderfully sensitive. Pale girl had made all sorts of interesting noises. Then later there had been that thing with organic metal knives and a screaming mall and, when Wish was bored, Rose with a gun and an explosive full stop.

Wish watches Rose on the bed. Says, "That can't be hygienic."

Rose just gives her another of those slightly glazed, one eyed stares. Despite all the pretty writhing she's doing on the black silk, red strands still cover half her face. Maybe it's a talent. Maybe she just needs a better stylist.

Wish examines her reflection in the window. She's got her hair curling down to the small of her back. Black. Purple highlights. Just because. Copper lipstick. Golden brown, almost amber eyes. Wearing a man's shirt, oversized and buttoned just enough. Not too many. Not too few. There's a difference between erotic and slutty. Wish has the first down pat and Rose would have the second wrapped up if all her outfits didn't come with so many buckles and guns.

Dominatrix chic. Masochists are so much fun. Especially when you're in their heads.

She quite likes it here. The drinks come tasting of bananas and far too much rum and have the cutest little umbrellas and when she gets bored she can easily wander down to the fair and make the pretty boys kiss each other for her own amusement. And yesterday, Rose won a duck. Wish maintains it was a lucky shot. Rose makes no comment on the matter.

Wish stares out of the window until the riot no longer needs tending and turns away. Gets silhouetted for a moment against a petrol bomb explosion. She'd laugh but it's all too easy. Maybe she needs a new game. She thinks of holding the future wrapped cat's cradle like in her hand. Puppets on strings. The world bending to her will. Rose is licking the barrel of a snub-nosed Colt. Wish smiles. Unbuttons her shirt. Steps over the bodies. Walks towards the bed. Leans over Rose to the bedside table. Turns in the flame light.

Says: "I can think of a much better use for that tongue, Rose."

Rose moves the gun invitingly. Wish blows out the candle.


End file.
